Perfectly Flawed
by Lollirotxox
Summary: What he wouldn’t give to have that fiery, stubborn telepath back once more. A twinge of regret rose in him. It wasn’t fair of him to wish for such things. It wasn’t her fault she had been left in pieces. Wasn’t her fault he hadn’t been there to save her.
1. Chapter 1 The Same Sting

Authors Note;; I'm not exactly sure where this idea came from. I was just browsing SVM fanfics, and reading some good ones when this song came on and I was thinking of how much Sookie deals with, and how almost any other human would crack under the pressure of the vampire world. And BAM. Plot! I'm not sure where this is going, but I'm going to let what wants to be written, be written. This takes place after Dead & Gone, so it might hold some spoilers. This is my first attempt at a SVM fiction, and I hope I get the characterization right, because I would hate to change them.

Disclaimer;; I don't own anything. The characters belong to Charlaine Harris. But what I wouldn't give to have my very own Eric Northman. Sigh. I also don't own "Perfectly Flawed", that belongs to OTEP.

* * *

_If **you** do **this**_  
_If **you** do **this** you'll **never** have **the** chance **to** try **again**_  
_If **you** do **this** you'll **never** have **the** chance **to** try._  
_**It's** the **same** sound_  
_**The** same **sting**_  
_The **same** collapse_  
_**Of **everything._

* * *

"Eric?"

"Yes, Dear One?"

"Why don't you ever take me swimming? I'd like to go swimming."

A sigh escaped his lips, followed by a sad smile as a large finger stroked down her spine, and he was rewarded with a shy, wide eyed glance of jumbled blue depths. "Because I am vampire, lover. I can't go out in the sunlight."

How many times had she asked him something pertaining to his disability to move during the day? It was a danger enough for him to be with her as much as he was. But he trusted no one else to care for her. No one else even knew her whereabouts, currently.

Except Pam.

His child was the only other being who held the knowledge of where his primary resting place was, the house he'd invited Sookie to reside in just weeks before, and she'd steadfastly rejected his offer.

What he wouldn't give to have that fiery, stubborn telepath back once more.

Cerulean eyes fell upon his broken bonded, and his hardened stare turned wistful as a twinge of regret rose in his unbeating heart. It wasn't fair of him to wish for such things. It wasn't her fault she had been left in pieces.

Wasn't her fault he hadn't been there to save her.

As his gaze swept over her form, much slighter now since it was a challenge to convince her she wanted to eat over the past few months, he felt a wave of joy brush at him over the bond, originating from her. He'd given her his blood when she was being most difficult, refusing to eat. Anything involving himself, he found, she would accept. His blood, his touch, his company. Why that was, even he couldn't fathom, since she had been so insistent of not needing him before she'd....cracked.

Cracked.

What an inadequate way to put it.

Her strong willed, defiant, spunky mind had finally had enough, it seemed. And even someone as spectacularly strong as Sookie had been had their limits. After those fucking fairies had their twisted way with her, somewhere among her process of healing she'd just lost it.

He'd come to visit her as soon as he was capable of after dealing with the mess, and she'd been fine. She'd been in no shape to have any sexual relations, but he'd been understanding of that as he hadn't expected it of her so soon after her injuries.

A few visits had shown things returning to normal, and then one night he'd shown up...

And Sookie had been sitting on her kitchen floor, without so much as a stitch on her body, her silken blonde locks stained with the blood from the raw ground beef she had setting in between her knees. The blood was smeared on her face, and she'd looked up at him with confused eyes when he'd asked what she was dong.

"I'm eating dinner." She'd replied, blue eyes looking at him as if that wasn't quite obvious.

"I don't know much about human food, but don't you think you should cook it first, dearest?" He'd been almost sure that humans weren't supposed to eat raw animal meat in such a way. He'd been frozen in the frame of her back door, simply staring down at her and knowing something wasn't right. Even the bond had felt different, like it wasn't as...stable as before, more jumbled, but strong as ever. He'd faintly smelled the scent of something burning, and it smelled simply rancid.

She'd waved a casual hand at him, as if to brush his words aside, as her free hand clawed free another clump of reeking meat, and her blunt teeth had ripped a piece off. "Silly vampire. This doesn't need to be cooked, _that_ needs to be cooked."

Her following point to the oven, and the resounding laugh that echoed throughout the walls of her remodeled kitchen had set the feeling of something terribly amiss in his stomach to stone. His acute sense of smell had informed him something was indeed burning to her oven, and he moved over to it with a growing feeling of dread swirling about his stomach, and deftly popped it open.

The instant the lid open, the putrid smell had permeated the air even more powerfully, and his nose had wrinkled in response. A thick black smoke had wafted out, and had his sight not been so enhanced due to his vampirism, he wouldn't have recognized was laid on the burning hot tray within.

A hand, the fingers curled as if to lovingly cup the cheek of whomever it had been reaching for.

It was in that moment, with the foul smelling scent invading his nostrils and Sookie nibbling away behind him, that the realization had sunk in.

She'd lost her mind.

Through very careful questioning, and a confirmation from Bill, he'd found out that Bill had come to her before he himself had gotten a chance to make his way there. Bill had been visiting to inform Sookie he'd healed from the silver poisoning, and somehow throughout the day she'd just...lost it.

When Bill had reached out to cup her cheek and inquire as to if she was alright, she'd used the trowel she'd had clasped in her hand, insisting the fairies would return for her if she didn't have some protection against them, with enough force to sever the vampire's hand.

Of course, if she had not had Eric's blood only days before she would have never been able to swing with enough force as to sever it.

According to Bill, he had fled the scene, not wanting to risk another episode, and called Fangtasia to inform Eric of the odd events, thinking maybe Sookie was under a spell of something. Bill would heal.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure if Sookie would or not.

And now, a month later, he was still unsure as to what had pushed his lovely telepath to her breaking point. Whatever it had been had happened during the day, and so it was nearly impossible for him to find out. And she couldn't give him an answer. The one time he'd asked, she covered her ears and hummed as loud as she was capable of.

Answers or no answers, she was in no condition to live by herself.

And so, she'd nearly become nocturnal to match his schedule. Pam had temporarily taken over the bar, to his chagrin. Not that Pam was incapable. Fangtasia was his...well, it was his baby, and he resented being away from the business.

But Sookie needed him. And he trusted no one else with his precious bonded.

She hadn't lost her mind in the sense that she couldn't at least take care of herself to some extent. She just seemed to forget many things, and not be able to understand them when explained to her. She would sometimes talk to someone who wasn't really there, and disaster occurred whenever she was within arms reach of a sharp object. She'd almost cut her own finger off once, and she'd mangled her gorgeous blonde hair by taking a scissors to it. It still retained it's almost length, falling softly below her breasts, but a few errant strands were cut to short, choppy strands.

Her once defiant, lively eyes almost always held a hesitant questioning in them. As they did right now, when he answered her question about swimming. Just like why couldn't they lay in the yard and sun bathe, she loved the sun so much. Why couldn't she see Amelia. Why couldn't she fix up his backyard into a garden. Why couldn't she answer Sam's incessant voicemails inquiring where her is, and if she is even still alive.

And Eric, why don't you make love to me anymore?

That caused another jab of guilt in his gut, and a small frowned pulled down the corners of his lips. Every second he was with her his libido urged him to take her. On the island in his kitchen, on the various couches and chairs, and, even better, his massive bed.

Something in him felt odd, as if to do so would be taking advantage of her.

A nasty little voice in the back of his mind told him she'd had no qualms about accepting his advances when he hadn't been himself.

He pushed that thought away hastily, scolding himself silently for even allowing that thought to the forefront of his mind. He had also expressed dire interest in having sex with Sookie while he was still in his right mind.

But then again, hadn't she as well? Hadn't she willingly accepted him, even encourage him, into her bed only briefly before the attack on her? Hadn't they been working things out?

His thoughts were forgotten when Sookie slowly ambled over to him, crawling into his lap and curling into a ball. He'd been reclined on one of his large leather couches, staring idly at the fire he'd built just minutes ago.

Sookie liked the warmth. It reminded her of the sun.

He dropped his chin, nesting it behind her head and inhaling the scent of her hair. It sent warm tingles over his skin, and made his inner animal roar. He, of course, had not slept with anyone since he'd last had her and the affect on him was simply maddening. Being a very sexual creature, the fact that she was more than willing didn't help his stand point at all.

As if reading his mind, which he knew she couldn't, her small hands came to spread their fingers over his broad chest, scraping lightly down the length of his torso until they reached the top of his pants.

He groaned at the touch, his body reacting immediately but he, by a fucking _miracle_, managed to rein it in. One hand clasped her fragile wrists within his hold, while the other brushed her hair aside and curled around the bottom of her skull. She tilted her head back to look at him with hurt, confused eyes.

"Why don't you ever want me anymore? Don't you love me?"

Those words froze him where he sat.

Did he love her? Yes. That went without question, because there was no way in the seven levels of hell he'd do everything he'd done for her over the course of knowing her for anyone else.

But he'd never admitted so to her when she'd been...sane. Would it be right to admit to it, now that she wasn't all there?

On the chance that she'd come back to him as she had been one day, when he resolved what had snapped her in the first place (which, mark his words, he _**would**_), would she remember? Would he resent him for keeping her hidden away rather than institutionalizing her?

No, he couldn't believe that.

Sookie would never want to be locked up that way.

If anything, he hoped she'd be grateful to him for hiding her away, and not letting anyone else see her this way. He'd persuaded her to phone Sam, when this had all begun, and luckily the shifter hadn't answered. He'd written on a piece of paper what she was supposed to say, and she'd obediently done as she was told, telling Sam that she'd been injured in the attack of a Supe and she'd give him details later, but for now she was going away to heal.

Sam had called him, of course, and he had feigned innocence as to her whereabouts.

He hadn't even entrusted Pam with his secret, but someone had to buy human food for him while he stayed with her. He hated leaving her to herself for even the briefest moments.

Snapping back to the current moment, with his crazy little blonde staring at him like a doe caught in the headlights, he cursed softly. "Sookie, that is not the case."

The sight of her tears was his downfall.

"Then what is it?"

What could he say? '_Because you're not in your right mind and it wouldn't be right_'? '_You've gone crazy, lover, and I don't want you to accuse me of taking care of you for selfish reasons when you come to your senses_'?

Obviously not.

A gentle kiss to her forehead was made, and when she tilted her face up with a hopeful expression in place, he wouldn't resist the temptation to brush his lips just briefly over her soft, trembling ones as she closed her eyes in pleasure.

Relinquishing control of her mind had allowed her true desires to shine through. Of course, that didn't mean she was begging him to be with her for all of time or giving herself to him in complete submission. He was glad to see at least some of his Sookie remained. But, if the urge to kiss him, or make love with him, or say or do a certain thing with him arose, she usually acted on it.

"I'm just not in the mood, Dear One." He assured her, lying through his teeth. Oh, he was in the mood. It was taking ever bit of will power for his member not to bounce up and say hello to her at her slightest shift in his lap.

If his abstinence didn't show how much he truly cared for her, he didn't know what would. She hadn't asked it of him, but he felt she would know if he released his tension with another.

Plus, he couldn't leave her alone for that long.

In the warm glow of the fire, her smooth, satiny skin was bathed in light, and her eyes shone as they looked up at him. Doubt clouded them, and a small, almost pouting frown arose on her perfect lips.

Well, shit. He hated, absolutely hated when she looked at him like that.

And what made it even worse was the tears still sparkled within the blue depths.

A flare of irritation rose. He'd give almost anything for his Sookie back. Even if she chose that insipid Bill Compton over him, at least he could sleep at sunrise knowing she was herself.

This being cuddled up to him was a mere shell of Sookie Stackhouse.

But she, of course, was still his.

And that was through anything, and he knew that even if she were to never regain her senses, he would stick by her side until either death or something else equally inevitable forced him away.

He allowed himself to delicately run his fingers through her hair, knowing it comforted her. She sighed in content, tucking her head under his jaw, but one hand still swirled teasing circles over his chest.

"Well, whenever you are in the mood then." She commented.

He sighed. '_That won't happen until you're better.'_ He lamented silently. But she felt his turmoil over the bond. Since she'd digested more of his blood, they were more attuned to each other and their emotions.

A frown rose, and scared, blue eyes flickered up to him once more. "Eric...What's wrong with me? I feel like I should be something, someone else. But this is all I can be."

He studied her face briefly, using the hints of emotion riding through the bond to dechipher what she wanted to hear. She'd asked him this a few times, randomly. She knew something was off with her life. She remembered what her life had been like before. But her mind had been reduced to an almost childish way of thinking, hence her questioning everything.

And each time she asked, he always responded that there was absolutely nothing wrong.

But every time he did, she knew he lied.

He considered his words, before carefully answering her.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You are who you can be. And it's my fault you are this way."

"Don't say that."

"It's only the truth."

"You'll keep me, though. Right?" That terrified gaze met his once more, and his chest tightened painfully. He resented the strong affect she had on him of course, but he couldn't hold it against her.

She'd gotten under his skin. And it wouldn't be right of him to only want her around when he could only have the best of her. After all, she'd stuck by him when he'd needed her the most.

And now he would do the same.

"Of course I'll keep you, lover. Rest assured that I will set things to rights. Do you trust me?" He questioned, his index finger chucking her just under the chin.

A warm smile answered him, followed by a nod.

"Then believe in me. And believe me when I say I will make sure you...heal."

He'd carefully chosen that word, but the meaning was powerful yet gentle enough to make sense to her. She nodded, and looked at him oddly, like she was considering something and trying to work herself up to do it, before soft lips descended on his once more.

He gave in with a sigh. What harm could kissing her bring? The hand under her chin slid up to cup her cheek, the irony was not lost on him that her ex had lost his hand for this very act, and she released a breath in relief, pressing herself further into him.

He resisted the urge to groan as his gracious plenty popped up to say hello once more.

That was the harm.

____________________________________________________________________

Authors Note;; So I'm not sure if I like this or not. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue or let it be where it is, and just call it a one shot. What are your opinions?

The idea was random, and as I said I'm not sure if I like it. The hand idea came from...Well, think about it. Gruesome things often happen in the Sookieverse, things we don't expect, yes? Well, that was unexpected and it was the most effective way to confirm Eric's suspicions. This seemed odd, and I wrote it in about four hours. But the idea just popped up and was bouncing around, and I just wanted to get it out. So should I continue? Leave it as it is? I'm terribly unsure.

-Lollirot


	2. Chapter 2 Losing The Stars

Authors Note;; Wow! I'm shocked at how much positive feedback Perfectly Flawed is getting! It's wonderful! thank you all so much for the encouragement. I just wrote this as a stray thought, but so many people are enjoying it. So I decided to pursue the few plot ideas I have. Also, I think I might change the rating to M. This could be anywhere between a few chapters to many, so we'll see how it goes. Thank you all again for your wonderful reviews!

Disclaimer;; Still don't own anything. But what I wouldn't give for my very own Viking vampire.... I don't own "Metal Heart" by Cat Power either, but I highly suggest you listen to this song. I'll be using only a few inspirational songs through out this fic, but they might alternate chapters.

* * *

___Losing **the** stars **without** a **sky**_  
_Losing **the** reasons **why**_  
_You're **losing** the **calling **that **you've** been **faking**_  
_And **I'm** not **kidding**_  
___It's **damned** if **you** don't, **and **it's **damned** if **you** do_  
_**Be **true, **cause** they'll **lock** you **up** in **a** sad** sad** zoo_  
___Oh **hidy** hidy **hidy**, whatcha **trying** to **prove**_  
_By **hidy** hidy **hiding**, you're **not** worth** a** thing_

* * *

It took every inch of control he possessed to gather her tightly into his arms and break free of her intoxicating kiss. Even insane, she still drew out the strongest feelings of desire within him.

"Sookie, no." He rumbled, taking a few deep breaths and exhaling them quickly in an attempt to calm himself. His fingers itched to caress her skin, to ravage her, and to throw caution to the wind.

Unfortunately, the fire he'd so adored in her had stuck through, and a spark of defiance shone in her gaze as she looked to him with determination, small, nimble hands falling to the waistline of his jeans.

His hips twitched, eyes closed, and a low growl ripped from his throat.

It would be so easy.

So easy to just allow her to continue, to strip her down and have his way...

But something inside of him just couldn't.

So, with his libido screaming furiously at him and his member throbbing painfully at continuously getting excited only to be let down without release, he gripped her wrists in one massive hand once more, and slid her back on his lap so she rested jut on the perch of his knees.

Tears rose once more, and she jerked testily on his grip. Brow furrowing, he refused to relent, and a powerful wave of frustration swept over him.

There was never a winning situation with this damn blonde! If he gave in and made love to her, he had almost no doubt that if she would ever be put to rights she would hold it against him, in true Sookie fashion. But in the mean time, his constant, although reluctant, rejection was not only giving him an almost permanent state of blue balls, it was also hurting her.

"Let go." She whispered, her eyes locking onto his and allowing him to see the swirls of emotion within them.

Guilt crashed down once again, and he fought the urge to snarl viciously. He absolutely _hated_ the feeling of guilt. He so rarely felt it, so when he did, that meant something was direly wrong.

And this infuriating human seemed to be more than capable of arousing those feelings within him.

"No." He responded in a strong, no nonsense tone. He gently tugged her forward again, unable to have her so close and yet so far away even if it was by his own hand. That was where the problem lay. He couldn't touch her, but he couldn't _not_ touch her. It was maddening.

True to form, she tugged on his grip once more, earning herself another hiss. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Who cares! You don't want me here anyway, just go, Eric!" She snapped, uncurling her legs and trying to scramble off his lap.

His patience was very close to snapping, had been for a few weeks, and everything caught up to him in that moment.

He snapped.

Knowing he'd regret this later, he released her wrists but curled his strong fingers around her upper torso, using her own arms to support his grip as he lifted her as easy as a doll, and was standing to his full height in a flash. She kicked and struggled, and he had her pinned to the wall in an instant, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"You will stop that. If I did not want you here, you would not be here. And no matter how many times you order me way, I am not going to obey. Do you understand?" He seethed, his careful control finally at its limits, and the irritation and anger within him finally coming to a crest.

He should have known it would only take a single expression of hers to knock it all back down.

With a slightly pathetic nod, lower lip trembling and eyes filling with tears, she looked at him like an obedient, wounded puppy dog. Melting, he set her on her feet once more and drew her close to bury his nose in her neck, encircling her with his arms and holding her tightly. She enjoyed that, and he well knew it.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, and he shook his head and murmured into her soft skin.

"Don't be. I lost my temper, lover. My sincerest apologies."

It wasn't even under consideration for her, and her arms went around his neck. Shaking hands tangled in his mane of gold, and he kept his face hidden in the crook of her neck, breathing her scent into him. That was one thing that hadn't changed.

Her beautiful, mouth watering scent.

As if picking up his thought process, which she seemed to do so often it periodically made him wonder if she _was_ somehow hearing his mind, those hands tightened just so in his hair and she tilted her neck, baring her throat in a silent offer.

He balked, flinching back as his fangs ran out slightly in contradiction to his actions. It had been so terribly long since he'd actually fed from her. Sure, he'd licked an accidental wound here and there, but he had been denied the actual pleasure of sinking his fangs in an drawing her sweet blood into his mouth.

She stared steadily up at him, head still tilted, and her fingers stroked his hair encouragingly. "I want you to do it. Please?"

He could resist the soft, pleading tone. He could resist the urge throbbing in the bond, the urge to comfort his hurting bonded in one of the only ways possible. He could resist his own blood lust.

But he could not, however, resist the wide, innocent eyes. The eyes that held so much purity in their insanity, but were so haunted by the things she'd seen. She was a beautiful contradiction.

After gauging the situation, he bent his head once more to the crook of her neck. Retracting his fangs took every bit of concentration within him, but he managed, and he bit down gently with blunt human teeth, flicking his tongue out to taste her delicious skin.

A forced chuckle rang out, and he lifted his head, mind racing to distract her and soothe her at the same time. "I've already had a synthetic blood for the night, darling. I am satisfied."

Lies.

She wasn't any more fooled than he was fooling himself. He was far from satisfied. Her blood was precious to him, as was her body. But he wouldn't indulge himself. Because deep down, he was _not_ fooling himself, and he knew good and well that should he yield to the temptation of her delectable blood, he would yield to her body.

Imagine. He'd been urging her to yield to him for so long and she had deprived herself, and now it was he that was resisting her. When you live a thousand years, you grow a certain appreciation for irony.

He knew, though. He knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped. Really, truly snapped, and took his fill of her body and blood.

He feared that day.

Tangling a hand in her soft locks, he smiled reassuringly at her, finding a compromise between the lines. "Would you like a bath?"

Her eyes immediately lit up, and a bright, happy smile spread. How she _loved_ taking a bath with him, especially in his ridiculously large porcelain tub, and he knew that as well. He stamped down the sigh of relief that wanted to be free, and instead swung her up into his arms before either of them could change their minds, satisfied with the alternative he'd come up with.

After carefully bounding up his stairs, he deposited her gently onto the seat of the toilet, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead before he turned to twist the knobs. Once he was satisfied with the temperature, he turned back to his lover.

"Arms up." He commanded in a soft tone, and she obeyed without question. He paused momentarily, steeling himself for the sight of her naked. It was something he would never get used to, never get tired of. But he had to control himself. She couldn't be left to herself to shower or bathe, so it was routine for him to be present while she did so...

But he could do this every day for the rest of his 'life', and it would still be a struggle to keep his hands to himself.

As it was, he allowed his eager fingers to slip under her nightgown, running up the outside of her thighs and lightly caressing the sides of her flat stomach. His fangs ran out slightly when the gown cleared her breasts, and their natural fullness assaulted his line of sight. A vision of their night spent in her bed, willing and conscious and fully aware of what they were doing on both parts, flashed through his mind and a deep, fiery yearning bubbled up inside his abdomen. Gritting his teeth and pulling his lips down to cover his now run out fangs, he hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties and tugged them down over her silken thighs. As her scent filled the air and nearly bowled him over, he had to freeze in his movements for a few moments. The primal urge was raging within him to simply _take_ her already, and he knew she wouldn't object.

Amazing even himself, he carefully lifted her into his arms and laid her gently into the hot water. Once she was situated, he turned to perch upon the toilet she'd previously occupied, but was halted in his tracks when a small hand curled around his wrist.

"You won't join me?" Sookie questioned, staring up at him with docile eyes.

Hesitating, he weighed his options. It was an adequate alternative to ravishing her, as he could at least enjoy the feel of her warm flesh against his. But restraint was the issue. And he was close to his breaking point already.

After a few more moments of thought, he deftly lifted his black tee shirt over his head, feeling his hair fall down his back as he discarded the garment into some corner. Her eyes widened as she watched him, as if she had not seen his body bare multiple times over. As if each time she saw it, the awe returned.

He felt much the same, and that was the problem.

Nimble fingers unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans off his hips with ease, taking his simple black silk boxers along with them. They pooled in a puddle of fabric at his ankles, and he stepped out of it and into his massive slab of porcelain before he could reconsider. Instantly, she was pressed against him, her bare back slick and tan, leaning against his chest in a silent pledge for acceptance. He took her in readily, arms sliding around her much diminished waist and tugging her against him. How could he deny himself the simple pleasure of at least feeling her against him?

Unable to divert the temptation, a large hand rose, making a soft wet noise as it exited the surface of the water and a few droplets fell back to join the much bigger body. of steaming liquid. The temperature felt good on his usually cool skin as well, and he settled down to enjoy it. His hand gently brushed her hair off her shoulders, the tips dripping from having dipped into the water, and he pressed a tender kiss on the nape of her neck. She shivered in his strong arms, and tucked her head under his chin. He could see almost every inch of her from the position they were in, seeing as he was a considerable amount taller than she, and his jaw tightened as he allowed himself to actually _see_ her, rather than look at her.

Sookie's usually healthy, curvy body was almost depleted completely. Her ribs poked out fleetingly from time to time, if she moved just the right way, and her face and waist were much thinner. Her breasts had barely changed in size though, making her look all the more sickeningly slim. She was absolutely gorgeous still, of course, but he wished he could conspire a way of getting her better nourished.

She began humming _that_ tune, as her body relaxed noticeably. Nothing special or particularly recognizable, but he'd come to know it very well. She hummed it when she was off in her own world, content to be there and he assumed even more content now so that he was in a snuggle mood. He usually was, when Sookie Stackhouse was involved.

She seemed content with their current arrangement, and he wasn't about to question it. It was much easier if she wasn't practically offering herself on a silver platter because frankly, he didn't know how much more of it he could handle.

Could he be of any less use to her?

He knew that was unfair to himself, as he was doing everything he possibly could for her. But he couldn't control the feeling of helpless, worthlessness that washed over him whenever she looked up at him with those sad, questioning eyes, as if silently asking him why he wouldn't just give her what she wanted.

Or maybe the sane Sookie was still in there somewhere, asking him what in all hell was taking to long to let her the fuck out.

Either way, he still felt useless as far as the situation went.

As skilled fingers began combing through her half damp locks of gold, he urged her to slide her body down far enough to dunk her head under the water. After h thoroughly washing her hair and her body, which took every ounce of restraint he'd ever exercised and the constant reminding that she was not in the right state of mind, he washed his own hair quickly allowing her to lather it on his skull after she'd frowned at him for doing it himself.

When they were both clean and relaxed, only Sookie felt the latter, he scooped her up and set her down only long enough to snatch the nearest fluffy, warm towel and wrap her in it. Making his way to his humongous bed, he playfully tossed her onto it, earning himself a little giggle. The sound warmed him, and he felt a bit of tension ease from his body as his gaze flickered to the alarm settled conveniently on his bedside table.

5:25 a.m. He slowly felt the warning of daytime creeping up on him, seeing as it was mid May and the sun rose much earlier. His entire house was readily protected, however, and he was able to sleep on the main bed with her. She hadn't accidentally opened the blinds for the better part of three weeks now.

The first few days of her willing entrapment, she'd woken a few hours into his daytime stupor and opened the blinds, forgetting about the sleeping vampire on the bed only feet away. He'd been able to groggily open his eyes at the searing pain, and she'd looked at him and, thankfully, remembered the condition. She'd only slipped up twice since then, but he couldn't bring himself to remain angry with her since it clearly wasn't her fault. She just seemed to forget simple, daily details such as that frequently.

He'd taken to making a rule for her. He tried his hardest to keep her up through the night while he was conscious, and have her sleep the day through while he was not. She'd even gotten out of his house once. _That_ had set him in a horrid panic, but luckily she'd only gone to his back yard moments before he rose so he was able to locate her quickly. He'd recently ruled that she wasn't to leave his, their because didn't she technically live with him now?, bedroom unless he was aware of it. When he was resting, she was to remain by his side unless she had to attend to her personal human matters in the bathroom. She wasn't allowed to shower or bathe on her own however, because he feared something happening such as a slip and she'd be harmed, and he'd be unable to get to her or even realize something had gone wrong until it was too late.

Sookie obliged these rules well enough, knowing he wouldn't say anything to her unless it was his best idea. She had enough sense left to know that.

He often wondered why she trusted him so entirely in her senile state, while she'd only guardedly done so while in her right mind.

Unperturbed for the moment, a soft nightgown that had been purposely placed at the end of the bed was pulled over her head, and she set herself to rights while he dried himself off and pulled on boxers. Normally, he preferred sleeping nude, but that was a _bad idea_ considering the circumstances.

Since she was almost moody to the point of bipolar these days, he was pleasantly surprised when she reclined against his many pillows, opening her arms in invitation. He lowered himself to her side, sliding into her arms but flipping their positions so she was curled into his chest. Her absently played with her hair to distract him from his thoughts, and her fingers traced the outline of his abdominal muscles.

The scent of her arousal slammed his senses, and he twitched lightly for a horrible moment that his body almost sprung. He caught control at the last moment, and the hand not touching her clenched into a fist to keep eager fingers from sliding over her body. He felt slightly regretful that he couldn't at least satisfy her needs, but he knew himself well enough to know that, while he may wish for it more than anything, that the moment he tasted her arousal or felt her soft, tight walls around his fingers, he'd lose it.

Whatever she was thinking to make such a strong wave of arousal wash over her, she didn't comment on it. Instead, with a softly whispered "goodnight", she drifted into a light sleep, and he couldn't say he was anything less than grateful as he felt his own slipping of consciousness drifting nearer and nearer with every moment it grew closer to sunrise.

He felt more than heard a vibration on the table beside him, and his hand shot out to grab the phone before it could wake his beloved. Beloved? When had he begun referring to her as that?

Shaking his head at himself, he flipped the phone open and spoke in a low voice so as not to wake the peacefully sleeping blonde.

"I left food in the fridge of the garage. I was going to come in, but you sounded....occupied." His child's teasing voice spoke over the little metal phone.

He growled. "You know well nothing goes on so bite your tongue."

"Yes, Master." She conceded readily, knowing better than to question him. "The purpose of my call was to inform you I'd fulfilled my duties."

"I am grateful." He answered, blue eyes falling on the crown of silken hair before him. The perfume of her shampoo wafted at him, since her hair was still slightly damp, and he inhaled it subtly.

There was a thoughtful silence on the line, as if Pam was considering whether she should say what she wished to. Her curiosity won out. "How is she?"

Fighting the urge to answer that with a wistful sigh, he brought the hand previously stroking her up to rub his eyes in a tired motion. "Much the same. No improvement."

"I...wish there was more I could do." Pam responded carefully.

"As do I." He knew his child was possibly the only person he could share his strains with, but a small part of him held back, knowing it would make him seem weak. "I will call you when it is needed. I hope the bar is well?"

A part of him dearly missed Fangtasia, and the simple pleasures of being there entailed. 'Enthralling the vermin', humans throwing themselves readily at his feet in offering, being in a position of power.

Here, he still enthralled a human that he considered the farthest from vermin one could get. She willingly offered herself but he considered himself in no position to accept it, and he was the farthest from in a position of power as he could get.

"It is. The vermin seems to be...missing you, for lack of a better term."

"I have my priorities."

"I realize, Master."

"I'll be in touch."

"Master?!"

He paused in the motion of flipping the phone closed. His last words had been a dismissal, and Pam well knew it, so it must be important for her to speak up once more. "Yes?"

"Have you considered entailing Amelia's help? The little witch has a talent for ectoplasmic reconstructions."

Now _that_ was a thought. He hadn't informed Pam that he was unsure of what caused Sookie to lose grasp with reality, but it was everything but painfully obvious because anyone who knew Eric Northman would know that if he had the slightest clue, he'd be doing something about it.

But he'd heard tales of Amelia's talent, and he'd never had a problem with the witch. She was at mouthy little thing, true, but at least she made things interesting. But hadn't that Were who'd been killed in the Supe hospital been her boyfriend? Sookie had mentioned her being a mess over it, when she'd been in her right mind. He'd have to find a way to politely convince her to do his bidding, rather than simply threaten her, seeing as she was a friend of Sookie's.

Plus, he wasn't completely heartless. If the witch was in emotional turmoil, she'd have to emerge from it of her own. will, and no force he exerted was going to change that. And if it involved helping Sookie, he was sure the witch would do it anyway. "Very perceptive of you, Pam. I'll look into it."

Tossing the phone onto the table once more, he settled into the warmth of his priority as he felt daylight creep closer.

He had much to consider when he woke, and a very upset witch to contact.

_

* * *

_

Author;; Good enough place to end it for now, eh? I can promise at least three to four more chapters with the ideas I have so far, but it might drag out. Hopefully you'll all enjoy this as much as you seemed to enjoy the last chapter, and I was successful in keeping them in character as much as is allowed in the circumstances! Reviews are highly appreciated!

More soon.

-Lollirot


	3. Chapter 3 A Man Who Won't Let Himself Be

**Authors Note**;; Hello all, sorry for the delay! Unfortunately my laptop screen cracked and the only way or writing other than a computer I have is a notebook, and for some reason that just doesn't work for me lately. So the only way I ever have a chance to write is on my sister's laptop, if she leaves it at home by chance. But the good news is, as soon as it's fixed I'll have a ton of time on my hands! But just for future reference, if you want to know why its taking me a while to update or anything I'm going to start keeping a status part in my bio so I don't have to constantly just post chapters that aren't really chapters to let people know of things like this. Anyways, thanks to everyone for all the reviews! I'm thrilled that this story got such a wonderful response! I have a basic plot line now, and I hope you guys are ready for an angst ride!

**Disclaimer**;; Don't own anything (but oh how I would love a bad ass Viking of my very own), and 'Down In A Hole' belongs to Alice In Chains. Is it me, or does that song eerily fit Eric?

* * *

_You **don't** understand **who** they  
**Thought** I **was **supposed **to** be  
**Look** at **me** now **a** man  
**Who** wont **let** himself **be  
**Down **in** a **hole** and **they've** put **all**  
The **stones** in **their **place  
**I've** eaten **the** sun **so** my **tongue  
**Has **been** burned **of **the **taste**  
I **have** been **guilty**  
Of **kicking** myself **in** the **teeth**  
I **will** speak **no** more  
**Of** my **feelings** beneath_

* * *

Long, powerful fingers rubbed over tired blue eyes. Not tired in the sense of sleep, but he was just so worn out from all of this. His gaze flicked to his sleeping …well, not exactly lover anymore, but his bonded. The sun had just set, but he was glad to see she'd slept soundly and hadn't even moved when he'd removed himself from her warm embrace. He'd tried using a specially blocked number to contact the witch, whom he believed was still living at Sookie's house, but when he'd called no one had answered.

All for the best, he supposed. He'd give it another few days and contact her again. He was itching to get the old Sookie back, yes, but she wasn't completely intolerable now. Just…frustrating. Being so used to the strong willed, proper, prideful creature that was the true Sookie Stackhouse, this broken version wasn't a version he was very anxious to get accustomed to. If she stayed this way forever, he knew he would stay by her side. Pathetically. A millennia old vampire taking care of an insane twenty seven year old human girl. What had his world come to?

These thoughts crossed his mind at least thrice a day, and he pushed them out of the forefront of his thoughts, but he still didn't feel right. Unbalanced. Incomplete. Like something was missing, like something was holding back.

He strongly disliked that feeling.

Tossing his cell phone back onto the nightstand, he got up from the computer chair and walked from his den to the bedroom. The door had been open as usual, so he could keep an eye on Sookie at all times. It was a necessary precaution.

It was only dimly lit in the room, the only light being a soft lamp on a nightstand next to her side (when had the left side been pronounced her side? What was this woman doing to him?), and the rays delicately shone on her skin. Soft, flawless skin except for the occasional scar. Her depleted body twitched his lips into a frown yet again, that seemed to be all he did these days, and he scanned her slumbering form once more.

Hair the color of sunshine flowing over her shoulders, half covering the dainty little hand resting on the pillow next to her cheek, her curled thumb just brushing the corner or her full, parted lips. Thick, dark eyelashes just brushing her cheekbone and skin with only the remnants of kisses from the sun coloring it.

Just from looking at her, the sinking feeling he'd become all too familiar with began swirling inside of him, but he kept his outer façade calm and collected. He tugged the slim fitting black shirt over his head, his golden locks spilling down to say hello to his bare shoulder blades as he, keeping his jeans on as a reminder that he must keep his hands to himself, slipped under the soft, midnight blue sheets and pressed his cool chest into her warm back. Her heat immediately began rushing into him, his skin sucking it up like a starving leech. Without so much of a shutter of an eyelid, her body molded itself to his as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And there was that petulant, despairing feeling, ten times over.

Ironic, wasn't it, that she was finally accepting him and wanted nothing more than to be in his presence, but now that she was cracked, he'd give anything to give her sanity back to her?

Was this a punishment of some sorts? This beautiful, selfless creature that had flounced into all of their lives on the arm of Bill Compton (his eye twitched a bit at that thought), shining so brightly and so full of innocence it was like she was a form of the sun itself among a world of barbaric, vain creatures who hadn't seen the sun in countless years.

Was it their fault she was like this?

Had they tainted her? Had he tainted her? Had his selfish, insatiable desire of her condemned her to this horrid fate?

If it had, was it worth it?

He couldn't decide. Of course, the guilt lapped at his redundant insides at the mere thought of it being his own personal fault she was in this hell now. But she did seem to be happy, didn't she? She was content just spending her time with him. He had no particular idea why, but she was happy with it so why shouldn't he be?

The feel of her warm, pulsing flesh pressed so snugly up against him answered his own question for himself.

For him, it was hell as well.

Having her practically offer herself to him over and over again, with his own burning need building upon itself as each day passed. Resisting her was one of the more arduous tasks he'd ever endured. Of course, his curiosity was satiated. He'd had her before. But even so, that made it even harder to contest her.

He knew what he was missing out on.

Had he done this to himself? It wouldn't be the first time he'd demolished a chance at happiness. But to ruin her life…

Helplessness washed over him, which only served to infuriate him. He loathed that feeling more than anything in the world. He was a thousand year old Sheriff vampire, god damn it, and there was always something he could do. Gaze falling upon her sleeping, almost angelic features, he simply studied her for a few peaceful moments, a whirlpool of emotions raging inside of him.

He truly, truly hated having feelings.

All he did anymore was think. And his thoughts wandered in all different directions, and he simply despised it. He wasn't a sit on his ass and brood type of vampire. That was what Bill Compton existed for.

No, he was Eric the North Man.

Erik the Viking.

And he was ready to do something.

Determination sparked inside of him, stronger than he'd felt in a few days. Sometimes he thought being around her so much caused a bit of her bipolar disorder to seep into his brain, with the amount of turmoil his mind was churning out recently. Gently rolling away from her he apologized silently with a tender sweep of his large hand over her silken locks, pressing a kiss to her temple. She didn't even stir.

He was a bit reluctant to leave her of course, so he settled to call the one person he entrusted her welfare to.

Slipping his black T-shirt back on, he shoved his feet into the pair of shoes he had closest to the bed and grabbed his leather jacket. While doing these things, his cell phone had been pressed to his ear and Pam's number dialed in a flash.

"Master." Pam's bored, rich voice greeted.

"Pam, report to watch over Sookie for a few hours. I'm going to Bon Temps." Eric replied curtly, keeping his voice low enough so as not to wake his slumbering lover.

"Of course. I can be there in fifteen minutes."

"Make it ten." With a click of a button, he'd hung up and tucked the phone into his jacket.

Ten minutes later, Pam stood in front of him, a wide grin on her face. She was dressed in her filmy black dress, and had obviously been on hostess duty tonight.

"Pam." He nodded, rising to his full height. Even with her high pumps, his child had to tilt her head back to meet his stare.

"Eric." She responded with a similar nod, her eyes scanning Sookie for a mere moment before moving back to him. "Going out?"

He nodded, but didn't offer more of an explanation at the moment as he got the keys to his Corvette from the stand on his side of the monster bed. When he was ready to go, he moved over to Sookie's side, pressing his palm to her temple and allowing his long, slender fingers to tangle in the softness of her hair. "Sookie." He called in an unbelievably soft, velvety voice.

Her blue orbs were revealed and hidden repeatedly as she blinked a few times, before steadying them on his, and a contented little smile tugged at her lips. "Eric."

"I'm going out for a bit, but I'll be back shortly. Pam is here."

Something was odd in her eyes. He couldn't exactly place it. They seemed…Clearer. More alert.

That was odd.

"Kay." Was her only reply, her tiny, heated hand rising to cup his cheek lovingly, thumb stroking the strong line of his cheekbone before it fell limply to the bed next to her head as she was lost to the world again.

Pam wisely didn't push for details as he made his way to the door, but he paused on his way out.

"Pam."

She was before him before the 'm' sound had finished, her head inclined in a respectful bow. "Yes, Master?"

"My cell phone is on me. If she causes any problems, alert me immediately and I'll return as soon as possible. Anything in this house is available at your convenience, as you know. I should be gone an hour or two at most."

"Where are you headed, if I may?" Pam questioned, a bit hesitantly. She was his favorite child, and harbored no doubt about that in her mind, but even his favorite child knew where she could and couldn't step. Luckily, after so many years upon years being at his side, she'd learned how to carefully toe the line.

"Bon Temps, to speak with the witch. I called her previously, but she didn't answer."

"She is a bit distraught."

"So I realize." And with that, he turned and made his exit, hearing Pam close the door behind him. The sun had just set minutes before he'd called Pam, so the tone of blue in the sky was still moderately light. Climbing into his car, he sped off to Bon Temps.

Being the first time he'd left the house in over a month, the windows on both sides were rolled down as far as possible, and his foot was putting a bit more pressure than he probably should have on the gas pedal. He made it to Bon Temps in less than twenty-five minutes.

Pulling into the driveway he himself had paid to remake, a sudden flash of thought made itself known and he reprimanded himself for not thinking of it before. Victor Madden and Felipe de Castro would, of course, be curious as to what happened to the infamous Sookie Stackhouse. The going story was that she'd disappeared shortly after the fae war and he himself, as her bonded, was on the search for her and that was why he was so scarce those days.

A warning bell sounded in his head. Enlisting Amelia's help would be allowing one more person to know Sookie's whereabouts. Every vampire instinct within him was telling him not to, but his pragmatic side was also telling him it was a clever idea.

The witch could help Sookie regain her sanity.

And so, deciding to take the path most helpful, his fist rose and rapped twice on the door.

The sound of a crash echoed from within, coming from the vicinity of the kitchen, followed by a hoarse, under breath curse. Using his enhanced senses, he scoped out the area. The only being around seemed to be the human girl inside, and so he let himself relax.

Just a little bit.

The sound of bare feet padding against the floor reached his ears, and then the door flew open.

"Sookie…?" A breathless, flushed Amelia questioned hesitantly, hope shining in her wide eyes for a brief moment that he would have missed had he been human. Upon seeing it was him, however, that hope faded noticeably.

But it still flickered in there, like a dying ember sucking down oxygen in its last attempt to cling to life.

Amelia Broadway looked…Well, she looked like hell. He'd only met her briefly before, but from his last remembrance of her, she looked like she'd been dragged through a mine field. Her usually sleek chestnut hair was matted and looked like it hadn't been brushed or conditioned in days. Her skin was gaunt across her cheeks and collarbone, seeming to stretch to into thin, frail covering over her bones, the deep purple bags beneath her haunted eyes making her skin look all the worse. Her body seemed much thinner as well, the thin gray sweats just barely clinging to her hips and the overly large black T shirt that smelled distinctly of Were seeming to drown her.

"Eric?"

"Hello. May I come in?" Of course he could, but even Vikings know how to be polite.

Dazedly, she nodded and stepped back to allow him entrance. With a nod, he stepped past her, moving directly to the living room. It spoke volumes about her impression of him, that she just allowed him in so easily.

Instead of taking a seat, he moved next to the couch and stood, patiently waiting for her to join him. Her feet dragged in the slightest, but she held her chin high, a knowing twinkle in her eyes as she moved closer in his bubble than most people would dare.

This one had balls.

Never one to sugar coat things, she looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a steel resolve, informing him silently that lying to her would be of no use. "You know where Sookie is."

He had to respect her forwardness, foolish human girl that she was.

With a curt nod, he crossed his arms across his ribs for lack of a better place to put them. He studied her momentarily, almost sizing her up. Considering her loyalty to his bonded.

"Is she safe?" Amelia asked, her voice tainted with a slight rasp, as if she hadn't spoken in weeks.

She probably hadn't.

A small stab of pity made itself known in his gut, (what was _with_ him lately, feeling empathy for these _humans_?) and his hard gaze softened the slightest bit.

The _slightest_ fucking bit.

After all, the poor girl had lost the man she'd loved as well as her best friend all within a few days. Of course, she hadn't literally lost Sookie, but that was a fact she was only coming to know about now. The least he could do was not be such a dick. Well, as much less of a dick as he could manage, anyhow.

"Yes. She is…in health. For the most part." The last part he added on a bit hesitantly, unsure of how to tell the girl lightly.

A light eyebrow arched, and her head tilted a few inches in question. "For the most part?"

Cold blue eyes met quizzical ice ones, and he resigned himself to being brutally honest. It wasn't really his way to be otherwise.

"She's lost herself." He was aware this answer was cryptic, but it would suffice. Amelia was a bright girl.

"She's…" The brunette stared at him blankly for a few moments, not completely comprehending his words, before it clicked in her mind. "She's….gone crazy?"

"Put crudely, yes."

"Like bat shit crazy, or just a little loopy?"

Despite himself, his lips twitched in amusement. Had to appreciate the girl's utter bluntness, even in the condition she was in. "Somewhere in between."

"So no ripping people's eyes out and chopping people to bits with a machete?"

Ripping people's eyes out, no. Chopping people to bits? Well…

"Not with a machete." He responded carefully. Had Bill not come around?

Soft, comprehensive blue eyes gazed at him, and not even a flicker of emotion crossed her face as she pondered this information. When she spoke, her words were slow and measured. "So…That's what happened to Bill's hand?"

Surprise flitted across his features, before he strictly controlled them again. His head was too fucked up to just let himself be free as he usually did. The past few weeks had jumbled his brain.

A thousand year old Viking, mind-fucked by a "bat-shit crazy" mortal girl.

Again, what was wrong with this picture?

He was a bit shocked to find that Bill had returned to Sookie's house, after what had happened. Although, he did know Bill loved Sookie, as much as it chagrined him to admit it. Whatever the word meant to the southern vampire, anyway.

He nodded, knowing that common courtesy would have him ask how Bill was healing.

But in all truthfulness, he didn't really give a flying fuck.

So why waste his time?

Opting for that, he simply nodded in response to Amelia, and shifted his weight back subconsciously to rest on the arm of the couch, half leaning on it and half standing, still. She moved to perch on the ottoman mere feet from him, and studied him with slightly wary gaze. Suspicion was written all over her face, and he knew his previous words about her housemate had sunken in fully now. Slowly, her lips parted and she spoke, eyes never leaving him for a second.

Odd.

Humans rarely do that. They always felt the urge to fidget and fill silences with awkward words, while vampires and other Supes were more than content to just have…"downtime", and his Dear One so endearingly put it.

"So is it serious?"

"Very much so."

"Any idea what caused it?"

"None what so ever."

She seemed to trust his words. He was a bit taken by surprise that she wasn't pushing more. Where was he keeping her, was he taking good care of her, who else know. Etcetera. She was taking all of this surprisingly well, but then again he knew Amelia was no faint hearted, heedlessly emotional girl over situations where something could still be done about it. She was very much like his Sookie, in that way, and he found he had a very sluggishly growing respect for the girl.

Another few seconds of silence as she just looked at him, before she softly asked. "Permanent?"

"I'm unsure at this point." His words came easily, thoughtlessly. No point in lying to her anyways, if he was enlisting her help.

"Why are you only telling me this now?"

"Pam had a rather ingenious enlightenment. She mentioned how you have a particularly exceeding knack for Ectoplasmic Reconstructions." His words were very carefully chosen, unsure as to how he should approach her. She was a very strong willed human, and yes, he was the damn Sheriff of Area Five, but hell if he didn't know that pissing off witches was a bad idea by now.

He didn't do it fearfully, of course. Just better thought out. Smart with his words.

"Oh?" This interested her.

"And I'd like for you to-"

"You would like to _**ask**_ me if I'd Reconstruct the time when Sookie lost her marbles?"

Eric grit his teeth, a flash of irritation rising at how she'd interrupted him and very subtly told him he was being rude by just _expecting_ her to do it.

He strongly disliked having to _ask_ anything of a human.

"Precisely." He ground out, eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

A little, ghost of a smile rose on her lips, as if she was acutely aware of the fact that she was pushing his buttons and he wasn't reacting brazenly, like usual.

"I'll need a day or two to prepare. Get supplies, try to collect my emotions enough to gather control to do this." She stated, almost absently listing off things she needed to do. It wasn't a question in her mind. Sookie needed help, Amelia could give that help. "I'll also have to contact-"

At that, a vicious snarl ripped from his throat and he leaned forward a bit, his fangs running out and baring slightly at her. His inner demon had reacted in a ferocious need to protect, his first instinct being that anyone but Amelia knowing was _bad_.

Protect his bonded. No harm could come to her, not again.

He didn't think twice about it before his body was mindlessly reacting to her words, and after a second he controlled himself enough to retract his fangs. He leaned back a bit, but his eyes still glinted in silent warning and his shoulders were tense, back stiff.

"No one knows but you."

A roll of blue eyes, and Amelia was on her feet, crossing her arms and metaphorically digging in her heels. "I can't do an entire Reconstruction on my own, Eric."

His jaw locked, and he glared at her for a moment. On one hand, he knew she was telling the truth, and was smart enough to know who to and not to involve in this. He hadn't told her much, but she was a perceptive human and knew it was dangerous for the wrong being to find out.

A compromise was in order.

After all, he hadn't lived for the past one thousand years reacting on his urges and desires alone, but a blend of his and the ones around him.

"You are to contact those who need be involved for this, and _only those_. Do you understand?"

Amelia bristled for a moment, about to chastise him for his condescending tone and choice of words. But she knew that he was only acting this way out of concern for her friend.

Granted, he acted this way normally.

But she could forgive it in this situation.

"Yes, Eric. I do." She said sincerely, dropping her arms from her waist to hang at her sides, her expression softening at the next thought that crossed her mind. "Maybe it'll be good for me."

The sadness replaced the strong look on her face, and his back stiffened a bit more. That was his cue to leave.

She was Sookie's friend, and he knew he should care simply because Sookie cared.

But, he didn't want to deal with a weeping human woman. _Especially_ a weeping one.

He did manage, however, to gently rest a large hand on her should, squeezing lightly and half smirking at her. "You'll be alright, witch."

A watery smile was his answer, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe the bi polar issue was just a problem all human women had? After all, she'd just gone from defiant and debating, to melancholy and poignant. He didn't bother to be around most of them for longer than extremely brief periods of time, and if he did he didn't care enough to notice their emotions and opinions.

"I appreciate that, vampire." She said, bringing a hand up to squeeze his wrist. With that, he dropped it, and nodded to her in ways of farewell.

"I must be getting back to Sookie. When you have all that you need, call Pam and she will give you the number you can reach me at."

"Sure thing." She nodded, that despair still evident in her voice.

After another nod, he left without so much as another word. Sliding into his Corvette, he felt the familiar contented sensation rushing over him when he was headed towards his lover. Blood bonds and…_feelings_ tended to do that.

Shit.

Damn humans.

The drive back to Shreveport was brief, with his foot almost pressed down on the gas pedal. Any car of his could take it.

While he was eager to get back to his lover, a small part of him was reluctant. The part of him that made him palms itch every time a smooth expanse of her skin was exposed to him, or made his member stiffen when he bathed her. It was becoming increasingly difficult by the day to resist, when all he wanted to do was take his fill of her, knowing she'd enjoy it.

But that just was attainable right now, and so those thoughts were better left unsaid.

When he pulled up to his comfortably large but not too ostentatious house, he came to a stop in the garage, flicking his hand up to press the button that would close it as he went in the inner garage door that would bring him in beside one of the main rooms.

Immediately, he knew something was wrong.

The atmosphere was completely different, and his body tensed in response. He couldn't smell anyone in the house but Sookie and Pam. What…?

Turning the corner of the little hall that led from the main room to the uselessly large kitchen, he froze for a single, breathless (not that he needed it, but the habit came back from time to time) moment as his eyes fell on the sight before him.

Sookie was standing at the stove, a freshly heated bottle of synthetic blood residing on the counter beside her. The stove was clearly on, by the smoke emanating from the pan in which she was cooking something, a long, sharp knife in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

The human part of him felt utter panic, while the shackles of his demon rose. Acting before thinking, he was beside her in a flash, fangs glistening as he grabbed her wrist and removed the knife from her hand, throwing it into the sink with a loud clatter, immediately moving her backwards away from the stove.

And something that very rarely happened over the past weeks happened.

He lost his temper with her.

"What the fuck are you _doing_? You _**know**_ you're not allowed to-

"Eric, I'm-"

"Don't interrupt me!" He roared, his fangs running out completely now. Another wave of fury washed over him as she shrank back a bit, eyes widening. He _hated_ when she acted afraid of him, he would _**never**_ harm her, and he was also livid at himself for losing control with her. Unable to completely reign himself in, he gripped her upper arms as loosely as possible, which wasn't saying much, and spoke through gritted teeth, fangs digging into the soft flesh of his lower lip. "You know you're not allowed to touch knifes, Sookie –"

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Eric Northman!" She scolded, eyes flashing as the danger in him slowly ebbed away visibly enough for her to notice it, and the pure rage across the bond slowly faded as well.

He paused, staring into the blue of her eyes. Completely alert, sane eyes.

"…Sookie?"

"I meant to tell you before you saw her. She woke up and she was just…" Pam's voice came from the doorway, and he saw her lean casually against it out of his peripheral vision.

But the whirling pools of his eyes were only for Sookie.

Sookie and the bright, reassuring smile that rose. His personal ray of sunshine, with her hair blow dried and shiny, mascara lightly coating her fluttery lashes and the slightly bit of lip gloss shining on her full lips.

The words that left those lips knocked the unnecessary breath right out of him once again.

"Eric…I'm fine."

And for the first time in decades, Eric the North Man was rendered speechless.

* * *

_**Bury** me **softly** in **this **womb  
**Oh** I **want** to **be** inside **of** you  
**I** give **this** part **of** me **for** you  
**Oh** I **want** to **be** inside **of **you_

* * *

**Authors Note**;; And that's all for now, folks! Don't get too excited or disappointed or any thing definite, because this is nowhere near the end. Sorry to leave you with a cliffie! I hate when it's done to me too, but according to my beta and best friend, I'm a cliff hanger whore and always leave my chapters with them. Which, in respective, is true.

Aside from that! What do you all think of the new season of True Blood? I'm getting steadily irritated with how much they're changing things, but it's only to be expected. And I must say, as irking as it is that they took away a huge part of what make's Eric, Eric, the haircut suits the actor. I for one can't wait for the Eric/Sookie parts to start being filmed and shown to us! And Evan Rachel Wood is going to play Sophie Anne! I myself am highly excited for that, as I adore Evan and I like Sophie Anne as a character.

Anyways, reviews and any sort of feed back appreciated and welcomed! It's nice to know my work is liked, especially since it's not 4:37 am and I just had to finish this chapter. I tried my best to keep them all as much in character as the circumstances allow. I view Amelia as very head strong and moody, but very endearing. Sorry for the long note guys. Reviews are like crack to authors! Update as soon as possible.

-Lollirot


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